


Welcome to the Greenes & Grimes

by aichihuahua



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: 10 Items or Less AU, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Gen, Humor, grocery store au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-27
Updated: 2014-10-22
Packaged: 2018-01-17 04:18:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1373653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aichihuahua/pseuds/aichihuahua
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After his father’s share of the family store is passed on to Rick Grimes, he and his son begrudgingly join the struggling, little store’s dysfunctional family. He thought a life as a sheriff was difficult, but he never before had to deal with frustrations like flirting employees, store rivals, or crazy grocery chain regional managers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The New Boss

 

 

Rick Grimes stood outside in the almost empty parking lot of the old grocery store as the rays of the hot Georgia sun bore down on him. It was as if they were pushing him to take the last few steps into his fate - The Greenes & Grimes, the family grocery store his father forced him to work in as a child. The one he wiped his hands of once he became a sheriff in Atlanta where he would have no more direct involvement. At least he thought he did.

He slowly approached the front entrance behind a hunched over senior. The man sidled through the automatic doors, but before he could follow through, they slid closed in front of him.

"What the-"

Rick stepped off the mat and back on. The doors refused to open. He jumped. Still closed. He watched a customer walk by the doors shooting him a curious glance yet made no move to help him.

"Okay, G & G. I get it. You don't want me here just as much as I don't want to be here, but it's what Pa wants, so you gotta let me in," muttered Rick. Desperate and annoyed beyond belief, he tried to insert his fingers into the crease of the doors and pry them apart. When they suddenly separated with a whoosh, Rick fell flat on his stomach barely softening his blow as to not break his nose on the scuffed up linoleum floor. A woman who had walked up behind Rick stepped over him and went along her way without a second glance.

"I hate it here. I hate it," grunted Rick as he pushed himself to his feet and brushed the dust from his pants.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The inside of the store was bright, yellow and empty save for a handful of customers that weaved through the aisles with their rickety carts. A stale smell also wafted through the air that told just how old the store was. The health department must have forgotten about the Greenes & Grimes along with the rest of the community. Rick tried to spy the gray head of the man he knew to be owner when he spotted another familiar face. He approached the young blonde woman behind the desk of the raised Customer Service podium in the center of the store.

"Beth?"

The last time Rick had seen Hershel's youngest daughter was when she was a baby and he was just about to go off to college in Atlanta. Her radiant blonde hair and glowing smile were exactly what he remembered of Hershel's wife.

"Yes, can I help you with something?"

"Yeah, i'm looking for your dad. Is he around?"

Beth's brow creased as her smile lessened in confusion.

"Sorry, I'm - I'm the  _Grimes_ ," clarified Rick with a wave of his hand referencing the store. Beth's eyes widened and she took in a sharp intake of air. She pulled the intercom up to her mouth.

"Daddy to Customer Service! Daddy to Customer Service." Her excited exclamation blared through the once quiet store. Rick winced at the piercing static.

"He's going to be so happy to see you! Especially now that - Well… I'm sorry about your dad."

"Thanks. It's fine. We weren't exactly all that close."

"Still.. What are you doing back now? Are you taking over?" Beth's consoling eyes morphed into a wide, sincere grin.

"Well, that's sort of why I'm here-"

"My, what a man you've turned out to be Rick."

Rick turned to see his father's best friend, Hershel Greene. He was grayer and more wrinkled than when he last saw him, but he was still the same warm man. Hershel opened his arms, and it was impossible for Rick not to give the old family friend a hug.

"Thanks Hershel. You don't look too bad yourself."

"You're finally back. Here to take over the helm? We could use the Grimes work ethic son." He clasped Rick's shoulder in a tight hold.

"Not exactly. I came to sell my half to you."

"You want to lop off a G?" Beth cried.

"Why don't you go take your break now sweetheart?" Beth huffed at her father's command, but she left in the direction of the bakery, her blonde ponytail swinging behind her.

"What are you talking about Rick? This is your family's legacy just as it is mine, why do want to give it up?"

"Did my dad ever tell you that someone shot me in the line of duty last year? Well, money was tight before that, but after the hospital bills started pouring in it's even worse. The family and I moved back here from Atlanta because of the costs. Then dad died, and all I got was a funeral to pay for and this store."

Hershel watched him with a critical eye, "Are you more upset about your father passing or that he didn't leave you anything else?"

"It's not like we were ever close," repeated Rick as he shifted from foot to foot. Hershel gave him the same quick, sad look Beth had. It seemed none of the Greenes could relate to his old, mildly unpleasant family life.

"Well Rick, I'm afraid I can't help you. Ever since that chain moved in across the street we haven't been doing so good. If I were to buy your half, we'd have to close up. Why don't you..." Trailed Hershel while scratching his beard.

"No. No."

"Come on, Rick. It's the only option."

"No, Hershel. I think I'd rather get stuck behind a station desk again than-"

"Rick." The older man looked into younger's eyes. They were bright, hopeful, and shone blue. He raised his eyebrows in welcome invitation, and his beard twitched as he smiled.

Rick cricked his neck to look at the yellowed ceiling tiles as he let out a resigned sigh.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Saturday morning brought only a handful of customers along with the two new members of the Greenes & Grimes family. Hershel had called a staff meeting in the breakroom to formally introduce the two. As the employees filtered in and sat in the littered chairs and sofa, Hershel, Rick, and his teenage son stood in front of the dented lockers. Beth sent Rick a bright wave and smile as she took a seat in between who he recognized as her older sister, Maggie, and a scruffy looking man.

"Good morning, everyone! I'm excited to introduce to you our new co-manager and stock boy, Rick Grimes and his son, Carl," announced Hershel. Rick tried to keep from shuffling on his feet as his son did in front of the apparent disinterest of the audience.

"Why don't we welcome him with that lively G & G greeting and introduce yourselves and what you do here," said Hershel. Rick dug his hands into his pockets and reminded himself he was not in a dreamed memory of the first day of school.

"Welcome to the Greenes & Grimes." It was mostly muffled, and only three out of the five employees actually annunciated, but it was a greeting nonetheless. It was silent after that.

"I guess I'll go first. Hi, I'm Beth, but you already know that. I'm the head of Customer Service." Another smile and she whipped towards Maggie. The sister, with a wry smile, rolled her eyes at Beth's energy.

"I'm Maggie. I run the bakery. Nice to see you again, Rick."

RIck nodded at the two girls. Carl smiled, more brightly at one sister than the other.

"Uh, I'm Glenn! Bagger.. But I'm studying sports medicine! So… Not just a bagger." Said the man who sat on the sofa arm next to Maggie. She bumped his hip with her elbow and chuckled at his stumbling introduction, he pushed back.

The man sitting in the same corner of the room in a stray chair raised his hand, "Name's Terrence, but you can call me T-Dog. I work the cashier with this dork."

"Okay." Glenn nodded. Carl chuckled beside Rick at the group's ribbing.

"I'm Michonne," said the woman with dreadlocks and a bandana form the opposite corner of the room. "I'm in charge of the produce." Her voice was low and calm, quite the difference from the rest of the group, until all that was left was the man beside Beth. He was ruffling the back of his choppy brown hair when Beth elbowed him in the side. He didn't glance at her but let out rough sigh.

"Daryl. Butcher." Despite his withdrawn facade, he looked directly into Rick's eyes and nodded for his introduction. Rick was compelled to nod back.

"That was great guys. Does anyone have anything else to say?" Asked Hershel throwing out his hands in anticipation.

The only sound were the knocking of pipes in the walls and scuffle of shoes as everyone shifted in the pause. Finally, Rick roughly cleared his throat to break the moment.

"I actually do have something to say. It's…  _great_  to be here and meet all of you, but this is only going to be a temporary situation." He directed the last part towards Hershel. "Y'all will only have to deal with this dual dictatorship till things settle on the Grimes' side of all this." Rick released a chuckle at his attempt at a joke. He was the only to do so till Hershel gave out a delayed laugh of his own.

"Dad," groaned Carl as he rubbed his forehead to shield his blush.

"I guess that's it. Okay, let's get the day started. On and out," ushered Hershel. "Carl, why don't you come with me and we'll fetch your uniform. Rick, I'll meet you up in the office." The older man wrapped his arm around the boy's shoulders and guided him from the room. Carl sent back his dad a wide eyed look from across his shoulder.

As the rest of the employees made their way out, Rick watched them leave. T-Dog and Michonne quickly and quietly left the room, but Rick caught the ends of the others' conversations.

"What is  _wrong_  with you?" Laughed Maggie as she grabbed Glenn's shoulder.

"I have a problem with authority! I know you remember the panic attack I had when your dad interviewed me." Their voices faded out as they left the room. The voices of the pair that followed behind them overtook them.

"My goodness that was like pulling teeth. They're new here! The transition is probably hard enough for them without all this weirdness." Whispered Beth to Daryl who followed behind her through the exit. Her chastising tone was the harshest Rick had heard from the young women yet.

As the door swung back and forth behind them, RIck heard the man's quick response, "Ain't nothing harder than sitting through a sharing circle outside of elementary school. And if they wanted to keep clear of weirdness, they sure as hell came to the wrong place."

Rick cursed under his breath. He was going to be doing that a lot from now on.


	2. Sorry So Sloppy

 

 

The following days were full of excitements, like first inventories and first slips on newly buffed floors, for the two Grimes boys. Rick had mostly holed himself away in the office, dedicated to figuring out the store's books to find some sort of hidden solution to everyone's money problems. Carl, whose left side was still sore after his fall, had come in every afternoon to work. To everyone's surprise, the teenage boy appeared happy to be there working instead of grumbling about playing video games instead.

Everyone had settled into the new environment with ease. With Rick keeping his leadership distanced, it was as if there was no difference to the way it was before. But with someone else constantly looking over the business side of things, Hershel was free to roam the store doing what he does best, taking care of people. And with Carl now taking over cleaning, stocking, and rearranging duties, he lifted the weight off Beth who usually had little to do during the days before.

She welcomed the time back at her desk. It brought more opportunities to work on her songs and studying for night classes. Everything was great despite the always recurring visits to her desk by an especially grouchy, return customer.

"This time I'm really going to do it, Missy! I'm going right down to the Health Department, and I'm going to show them what I found in one of your packaged chickens!" The old lady yelled. She threw down a napkin wrapped something on Beth's desk and continued to glare at the girl.

"What is it this time Mrs. Heffernan?" She sighed as she slowly opened the mysterious package only to jump back with a disgusted squeal almost throwing it into the old woman's pinched, wrinkled face when she had a look inside.

"It's a finger!" Gruffly cried Mrs. Heffernan.

 

 

* * *

 

 

"I sure as hell didn't give her a fucking chicken breast with a finger in it!" Cried Daryl from behind the butcher's counter. The woman let out a harsh breath at his language. Rick gave her a look of apology.

"I cut the damn things up and wrap them myself and look," he raised and waved both open hands to the group in front of him, "Got all ten. But if she wants to see a missing finger or two I'll gladly give it to her," he said readying one hand. Hershel reached across the counter and pushed it away.

"That's unnecessary Daryl. We get it."

Hershel and Rick stood in front of the counter with the fuming Mrs. Heffernan beside them glaring at the angry butcher. Beth had followed the woman to the meat section but stalled an aisle before. She still had trouble keeping her lunch down at the sight, and she didn't want to chance another accidental glance.

"What's the emergency?" Asked Carl who had wandered up behind her. Beth had practically yelled into the intercom calling her daddy and Rick as soon as she saw the bloody thing.

"Just listen." Groaned back Beth.

"Why don't you explain what happened Mrs. Heffernan," said Hershel calmly.

"I got home and was ready to get myself together a nice lemon chicken, and when I cut open the plastic, the first thing I see is this finger! You better be thanking your stars this lawsuit is all you're getting. I could've had a heart attack! And you'd be sure to get the bills for that too!" Exclaimed the woman, wagging the finger in their faces as if it was her own.

"Ew… That is so cool," said Carl. Beth scoffed and shook her head.

"Crazy old lady," mumbled Daryl.

"There's no need to go so far as getting the Health Department Mrs. Heffernan. Nobody wants them snooping around," Rick side-eyed Hershel at his hurried placating, "What can we do to keep this all to ourselves?"

"I ain't done nothing wrong, so there's nothing for us to do!" Daryl stabbed the slab of beef in front of him.

"I want one thousand dollars for compensation for this traumatizing event," cried the woman with the hand, not holding the gross object, clutching her heart.

"...How about just a coupon for three chickens for the price of one?"

"I don't want to chance getting the whole rest of the hand smuggled to me! One thousand dollars or I'm taking y'all down! This is a bargain I'm offering!"

The woman continued to huff, Hershel continued to wring his hands, and Daryl continued to clutch at his cleaver.

"Why don't you let me get look at that," intervened Rick reaching his hand out for the finger. Mrs. Heffernan pulled it back.

"No. You - You'll destroy the evidence." Her face lost its haughty anger and turned into a controlled pinch.

"Yeah, let the sheriff here see it!" At Daryl's cry, the woman looked panicked.

"Sheriff?"

"Yep," agreed Rick after a pause. He shared a look and sly grin with Daryl. "I'm undercover investigating the gang violence in the area, and this might be the breakthrough we've been looking for. Now why don't you give me the evidence, or you can be charged with impeding on an investigation. Your call."

The two stared each other down forcing the other to outright call their bluff, but after a few moments Mrs. Heffernan slowly reached out her clutched napkin. Rick grabbed it and after a bit of back and forth when the woman wouldn't let go, he unwrapped the bloody piece. He studied it for a while until he promptly took a bite out of the tip. Beth and Carl both let out astonished cries.

"Quite a skill there Mrs. Heffernan. I'm sure the county fair would have quite an attraction if you entered their food sculpture competition," Rick passed the evidence to Hershel. "It's just a carved sausage with ketchup on it."

"Are you serious?" Yelled Daryl.

"The blood would be darker by now, not tomato red. Why don't you try using barbeque sauce next time." Rick handed the object back to the old woman who had deflated entirely of all haughty anger.

"Why would you do this Mrs. Heffernan? You've been coming here for twenty years! You're a valued customer!" Cried Hershel.

"I needed the money. I've taken the plumber and the pharmacologist with this routine and was expecting this to be my easiest hit. Didn't think I'd have a detective here to snuff me out."

"Okay, okay. Why don't we just put this all behind us. I'll let you off with a warning ma'am. Just don't let me catch you with any more dismembered limbs from now on, you hear?" Said Rick as he guided her towards the exit with a hand on her shoulder.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Once their fathers had finally cleared the scene after calming down both Mrs. Heffernan and Daryl, Beth and Carl sidled up to the butcher's counter.

"You okay, girl? Looking kina green, Greene." Joked Daryl after he caught a glance at her ashen complexion.

"I can't believe that wasn't real! I almost lost my stomach when she first showed that thing to me."

"I thought that was awesome. I'm only annoyed I didn't get a better look at it." Said Carl.

"You're one weird kid." Daryl got back to work prepping the beef he was working on before the incident.

"I'm a teenage guy, Daryl. Like you wouldn't have been interested in seeing that if you were me and not being accused of anything?"

Daryl silently watched him and then took a chop at the slab. "Maybe you're right," he said with a wry smile.

The two stood there in silence for a few moments as they watched Daryl cut the meat with increasing force as he worked. His jaw and shoulders were tense.

"I knew you didn't do it from the beginning. The majority of our customers only come here for your steaks." Comforted Beth with a smile. Daryl didn't reply, but his shoulders lowered and his mouth softened into a light grin.

"I think that's because all the grannies only come here to ogle at his arms." Laughed Carl as he waved a hand toward Daryl's exposed arms. "Why do you cut off your sleeves when you're handing slimy meat all day?"

Beth smacked his arm when the butcher began to shift on his feet and scowl to detract from the slight flush on his cheeks.

"It's easier to clean splattered blood off skin than out of sleeves. Learned that the first week here." He enunciated his answer with a finishing chop to the slab.

"I think I'm going to be sick again." Grumbled Beth as she clutched her stomach.

"You need something? Oh, I'll go get you something to help! Wait here!" Carl rushed off toward the medicine aisle. After a moment, Daryl shook his head and let out a low chuckle.

"What are you laughing at? You find kindness amusing?"

"Yeah I do, but I think those hearts in his eyes are even funnier." Beth's hands dropped from her stomach and her eyes went wide.

"Oh, come on, Beth. You haven't noticed him mooning over you since he got here?" Asked Daryl. His face was brighter than she'd ever seen it. It made her think back to when she doubted he ever could smile.

Daryl had began working at the store a year or two before she had. She joined the store once the cost of college had begun to hit too hard for her and her dad. Daryl was even more surly when she had first met him. He rarely, if ever, spoke to anyone other than his customers, and Beth had been slightly afraid of him and his tattoos. While their jobs forced them on opposite sides of the store, she had once tried to avoid him whenever she had to leave the service podium. She dreaded her father calling her to do inventory, going for lunch in the breakroom, and the week the over-com was shot was the worst when she had to run across the store to get her dad from his office.

When Hershel had begun to notice her avoidance, he had set her aside and reprimanded her. He had told her that while the new butcher didn't look it, he was a good guy. Life had been hard on him, and even now that he was trying to crawl out of the gutter that it pushed him in no one would give him a chance. Of course, her dad did and hired him on the spot. And while his less than inviting impression was half of the reason why all the other employees avoided him just as much, her treatment of him had only furthered everyone else's. It was Beth's nature to see the best in people no matter what their covers advertised, and Daryl appearing to be the exception to the rule spurred everyone's impressions of him. From then on, she had made the decision to fix it.

She initiated the first course of action at the Monday morning meeting. Everyone was settled when Beth entered and there were only two seats open - one on the opposite side of the room by itself and one in between Daryl and the rest of the group nearer to her. She had hesitated, but took the seat next to him. But when he noticed who it was, he did a double-take and immediately rose to stand against the wall behind them.

From then on, Beth made her advances during lunch breaks away from any audience. He planned his lunches later in the day when everyone else had already finished, and so she had rescheduled hers. The first few times, she had sat on the couch while he sat at the table. Both ate their sandwiches in silence sending each other furtive glances when the other wasn't looking. She thought that if she got him used to her presence, maybe he wouldn't run when it was time for her to talk to him. And then one day, Beth sat down at the table with him. He froze and tensed all over as he stared at her, as if trying to force her back to the opposite side of the room. Pushing back all her urges to run away from his glare, Beth looked back at him, smiled, and went on eating her lunch. From the corner of her eye she saw that he didn't move for a while, but at some point he finally relaxed and went back to eating himself. When she was done, she gave him another smile and wave and left him to the rest of his meal and newspaper.

These silent meals continued for another couple of days till Beth was ready to make the final push and actually start a conversation. She had settled herself into the chair opposite him at the table, but seconds before she was going to going to greet him with a sweet "Hi," he beat her to it with a gruff and almost silent "Hey."

With that one greeting, all of Beth's hesitations about the man washed away. She had responded with a soft greeting back. Minutes later, he had awkwardly asked her, "It's Beth right?" When she nodded and shot him a glowing smile, he returned a small one of his own before giving her his name. The rest of that lunch was fairly quiet, but with every passing day they spoke more and more to the point where they were comfortable enough to tease each other. The day that they walked out of the break room together, Beth laughing and Daryl shaking his head at her, just so happened to be the same day that the rest of the G & G family were all together in front of the door. They were cleaning up a fallen aisle that had been knocked over by an elderly customer's faulty scooter. They all stared in confusion causing Daryl to bark out an accusing "What?" before stomping back to his section. Beth just raised her chin and said, "Yeah, what? We're friends now." Her father smiled in approval, and from then on everyone else had made their own efforts to get to know the butcher.

Looking back on that long, drawn-out process that was their friendship, Beth now related him to her favorite old pair of cowboy boots. Not that she would ever tell him that she thought of him as scuffy, gross footwear. But it was the perfect comparison. Her father had given them to her when she started riding lessons. They were as utilitarian as could be: nowhere near pretty, but brown and stiff. The sides rubbed her feet raw even with thick socks and left her covered in blisters by the end of her lessons. But she kept wearing them and oiled them to soften the leather. Once worn in, they were the most comfortable shoes she owned. It didn't matter that they now looked even worse with all the wear and tear, they were her favorites.

And now that Daryl and her were close, he had become her favorite part of working at the store. It was nice to have relationships with her sister and father outside of home, but she didn't have anyone else like Daryl outside of the store. The quiet and serious demeanor that had scared her at first now drew her in. It made all their shared moments of lightheartedness even more meaningful.

Except at this moment, she didn't welcome it with open arms.

"Of course I've noticed. I'm just...ignoring it."

"Surprisingly cold, Beth."

"I know. But I'm in college and he's barely in high school. I get the draw of an older crush, but the attention is beginning to make me uncomfortable. He hangs around my desk whenever he doesn't have work to do, he follows me when I go on my breaks, and the other day he asked me what my Skype account was… And I might've on purpose accidentally given him a very slightly misspelled name." Cringed Beth.

Daryl didn't say anything but watched her with a critical squint.

"I know! I know. But his flirting just keeps happening more and more often, and it's coming to a point where I think he's actually going to 'make a move.' I just can't handle having to let him down. I'm not good at handling stuff like this Daryl! When I wanted to break up with my last boyfriend, I had Maggie do it for me! I knew that if I did it and he tried to stop me, I would have cracked. Stop laughing!" Beth ordered as she hit the counter she was leaning against.

"Wow, you really don't have a backbone." Coughed out Daryl from behind his hand, trying and failing to stop the remaining snickers.

"I do! But it only disappears for certain situations."

They stood in a comfortable silence, Daryl began working on a new slab while Beth watched him forlornly.

"Do you want me to talk to him?" He asked without looking up at her.

"...Could you?" She quietly responded. He still didn't look at her, but he nodded. She released a long breath along with a soft "Thanks." Feeling considerably lighter, she continued to watch him work for a couple moments longer till he began speaking again.

"Until then, be wary if he tries to pass you any notes." He said with a sly grin as he wiped down a knife.

"What are you talking about?"

"When I was a kid, and you liked someone, you'd slip them a note with 'Do you like me?' and two boxes to check underneath for 'Yes' or 'No." Then 'SSS' at the bottom."

"Oh God, don't even joke about that!" Cried Beth as she hid her face with her sweater sleeves. "Wait. What does 'SSS' mean?" Her head poked back in confusion.

"'Sorry So Sloppy.'"

At that, Beth erupted into a fit of giggles that wouldn't stop. Daryl watching her on the brink of laughing himself didn't help. Once she finally caught her breath, she asked him the questions that spurred her laugh attack.

"Did you ever get any of these love letters? No! Better yet, did any lucky girl ever get one from you?" She tapped the glass counter as she watched him with a big, expectant grin. He began to shift on his feet again and stared her down.

"'SSS' could have also mean 'Super Super Secret,' so I ain't going to answer that."

"No!" Beth cried and the two launched into another fit of laughter which calmed when Carl bounded back to them.

"I have some of that pink stuff with a glass of water for you at your desk." Said Carl through exhausted breaths.

"Thanks, Carl." She barely got it out when the boy began to steer her towards her desk with a hand at her back.

Beth twisted in his hold back towards the meat section. With wide eyes, she mouthed, "SOS." But Daryl just raised his shoulders and motioned towards the meat with a look that meant he was busy. Beth scoffed and let Carl drag her to the medicine that would settle her stomach that was no longer turning from cut off fingers or persistent boys, but from a certain butcher.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I can't believe there are people into this idea other than me! I'm so grateful for the reviews/faves/follows. Y'all are amazing! I had the first part of this written since the Monday after the finale, but the reviews really pushed out the rest. And made it twice as long as the first part. I can't totally promise another chapter (soon or at all because life comes first over writing fic), but feedback certainly inspires me to do more.  
> PS: This update has quite a bit of Bethyl because they make me happy.
> 
> SSS


	3. The Miracle Worker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (warning for use of strong language)

"Well, that's a problem," said Rick.

 

The employees stood circled around a wall between the entrance and the produce department. They all studied the large water stain that leaked through and bulged the blue paint.

 

"Hershel you need to get this fixed. No one's going to want to buy oranges with this disgusting thing staring them down," said Michonne, her lips curling.

 

"How do you suppose we do that? Use that big emergency fund we have stashed away?" Rick grumbled as he got nose to bubble for a closer inspection.

 

"Don't sass me, Grimes." She shot back with a barely there upturn at the side of her mouth.

 

"Rick's right," agreed Hershel, "However much this would cost to fix would be more than what we can afford."

 

"And no telling what's going on under all that. Water in walls tends to do more than just bubble paint." Daryl spoke up. "Mold, rotting, warping.." He trailed off once he noticed that his coworkers' curious eyes were all on him. "Might've dabbled in construction before I got here." An amused smile bloomed on the blonde's face next to him.

 

"Does that mean you can fix it?" Asked Rick.

 

"I'll take a look at it. If it's something I can handle, I'll bring in my stuff and get it done. Give you the family discount."

 

"Here you go, Rick. Don't ever get too down because there's always a solution around the corner!" Hershel clapped Daryl on the shoulder.

 

"Thank, God. And you too, Daryl. The last thing we need is to get further in the negatives," Rick ran a hand through his hair in relief.

 

The group began to disperse when T-Dog took a few steps closer to the stain.

 

"Does it look like anything to y'all?" Everyone stopped to peer back at the discolored streaksl.

 

"Like what?" Asked Beth taking a place next to him, both their noses scrunched in concentration.

 

"Oh yeah! I think I see something! A face!" Glenn ran up to the wall and began waving his finger across it, "There are the eyes, and the nose, and there's a beard!"

 

"Ah, that's creepy." Michonne called out.

 

"That's it! You know it reminds me of those stories you see on the six o'clock news about people finding potato chips in the shape of Jesus and putting them on display in their china cabinets." T-Dog chuckled.

 

The group again separated to get back to work while Rick kept his stare fixated on the stain.

 

"Huh."

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

"I cannot believe he's doing this," muttered Beth to her sister as they watched the show unraveling in front of them at the customer service desk. A crowd, twice as large as their humble Sunday afternoon rush hour, mingled in the store. They were all eager to catch a glimpse of both the holy stain as well as the attractive store manager who was now being interviewed by a local news reporter.

 

"I don't know." Beth whipped towards her older sister in disbelief as Maggie went on, "It's kind of a great advertising ploy. I mean look at all these people! And Glenn's having so much fun. There's actually a line at the register! He can finally time how many bags he can pack in half an hour. He's been worried he'd be too out of shape to beat Woodbury Mart at this year's competition.

 

"Maggie! This is blasphemy! I'm pretty sure this exact thing was under the 'What Not To Do' list in Sunday school."

 

"What is _this_ exactly? Do you mean a man taking drastic measures to keep his family _and our's_ business afloat? Is that was _this_ is?" Shot back Maggie.

 

Her younger sister's cheeks reddened and puffed once she was finished opening and closing her mouth in a fit. She huffed in a high pitch before jumping from her seat and pushing her way past Rick and his interviewer, but not before throwing a frown into the camera over her boss's shoulder.

 

"Yes we here at the store feel very blessed that our Lord and Savior has chosen us to grace with his beautiful face. And we're celebrating that blessing here at the Greenes & Grimes with a nice big sale on our baked goods and fruit drinks, perfect for a Sunday after -"

 

"That's wonderful. Congratulations again, Mr. Grimes. This was News at 5's Mindy Marks. Now back to the studio." The reporter's smile dropped the second the cameraman yelled cut before turning back to Rick. "We'll just get a couple of extra shots of the stain, the crowd, and maybe some of the store and then we'll be off. Makes sure the close up of the stain isn't blurry this time, Barry!" Enforced the reporter as she pushed her cameraman through the adoring crowd.

 

Hershel sidled up to the dazed Rick, "I haven't seen this many customers at one time in years. And while I'm not on board with how you made it happen, I can't complain. Desperate times."

 

"You should tell that to your daughter. Beth won't stop glaring at me." Rick paused while the older man let out a laugh before continuing, "Just you wait. After people see this tv spot and the flyers I got one of Carl's friends to put on all the cars across the street, we'll have enough customers to get us a couple feet closer to getting out of the hole."

 

In the middle of Rick's speech, Hershel halted his nodding and frowned before asking, "Not Woodbury Mart's parking lot though, right?"

 

"Of course. That's where the people are. Why?"

 

Before Hershel could inform Rick of why that was such a bad idea, the subject of his concern stomped through the automatic doors bellowing, "No act of God can help you and your shack of a store, Greene. Now come get your desperation off Woodbury's property!"

 

"Meet Philip Blake. Our competition." Sighed Hershel.

 

The tall man with an eyepatch marched up to the two men with a wad of the green flyers in his fist.

 

"Philip, always a pleasure. This is my partner Rick. He's finally come back to run the store with me," introduced Hershel with a wave between the two men.

 

Rick's outstretched hand and greeting was unreciprocated as Philip looked him up and down before pushing the flyers in his face, "This was your idea then?"

 

"Nice to meet you too. And yes, it was," grumbled Rick taking the flyers.

 

"Why are you so angry? We're not stealing your business. Your customers won't even see the flyers till they get back to their cars," said Hershel trying to appease the glowering man.

 

"I'm not angry. Just tired," Philip's voice had dropped to an almost convincingly mellow octave. "Tired of waiting you out until you finally give up and sell me your store."

 

"Doesn't your huge and impersonal chain sell groceries? Why do need the G&G?" Rick interrogated.

 

Philip turned to him with a sly smile and said, "To bulldoze it over. Our lot just can't handle the weekend masses."

 

"Have fun waiting. Now that I'm here, things are only going to get better for this store," growled Rick into the taller man's face having settled into an intense glaring match.

 

Beth, who was giving the stink eye to the offending wall as she returned to her desk, suddenly stopped near the group and shrieked, "Oh my God!"

 

The worshippers awed, the enemies stopped their intimidation, and all watched as trails of water slid down from the eyes of Jesus.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

In the chilled stockroom on the other side of the stain, Daryl had finished emptying and moving the shelf that stood in front of the moist wall when the younger Grimes shuffled in.

 

"You should've gotten T to help you lug that in. Even I've a hard time carrying tha- What 're you wearing?"

 

His spine bent over like Igor by the weight of the large toolbox in his hands stood Carl looking as if he stepped out of a reenactment of the nativity story.

 

"Never joke about anything with my dad. He takes _everything_ seriously." Grumbled the young Grimes before he dropped the box. The resulting _clang_ caused the both of them to jump and for one of them to yell out a curse.

 

"Careful with the tools, Joseph," sighed Daryl and the teenager cringed, "Wanna stick around in case I need extra hands?"

 

"I was going to anyway." Carl ripped off the brown headdress and went about following Daryl's orders to search the box for his stud finder and mini hand saw.

 

Daryl let the boy make sure the stained part of the wall was free to cut before he stepped in to begin the now easy job of sawing through the soggy drywall. Once he began cutting into the surface, Carl started to fill him in on the show he was missing.

 

"It's great. People are coming in and praying at the wall, and before they can even finish crossing themselves off, Dad swoops in to remind them about the sale. But I don't know if that's more fun than watching Beth freak out about it all." Carl's laugh faded into a sigh when he spoke her name.

 

Daryl slowed his sawing through the last bit of wall. "Beth?"

 

"Yeah. She's been stomping around the store all day. Won't even look at Dad when he tries to talk to her. It's great. She looks like an angry rabbit the way her nose scrunches up when she's mad. Glenn told me how red she got yesterday when Dad brought up his idea to y'all. Wish I'd seen it..." The boy trailed off as he slipped into a daydream of the riled up blonde.

 

Daryl remembered her face. Her cheeks and ears had turned rosey after Rick's announcement. But he had been more drawn to way her teeth wore out her frustration on her bottom lip. And how in the locker room at the end of the day, as she relayed her worries to him about all of them going to Hell, her teal painted fingers plaited a thin braid into her thick, curling, golden ponytail.

 

He pushed away the distracting images and pulled the saw the rest of the way through. The slice of drywall fell to the floor with a heavy _thump_ and exposed the leaky pipe that spat a steady flow of water onto the wall.

 

Daryl had offered to talk to the kid about his crush, and Carl had unknowingly set him up perfectly for it. He wished he never brought it up to Beth in the first place. He could pass off the job to someone else, Beth herself for fuck's sake. But he sort have promised her that he would, so now he had to. Daryl braced himself for the impending awkwardness.

 

"Beth, huh?"

 

"Yeah. Beth." Carl said slowly, as if Daryl was hard of hearing.

 

"Nah. I meant-" Daryl sighed with a shake of his head before mumbling, "You _like_ her?"

 

"Yeah, I like her. I like all y'all." Carl shrugged as he returned Daryl's tools to their homes in the toolbox.

 

"You _like her_ like her though."

 

"I - Yes. Yeah, I like her! God, Daryl, what's with you?" The teen slammed the metal box shut before springing to his feet. He stared down the older man with a pinched yet reddening face.

 

"Nothing! Just - Trying to talk to you is all." Daryl shifted away from the boy and rested a hand against the wall before running his fingers over his short beard. "Once it's over, I'll for sure never do it again." Daryl grumbled.

 

"You jealous of the competition?"

 

"What are you talking about?" The butcher pushed off from his resting place to stare down Carl. He focused on projecting his indignation to distract himself from thinking about how the kid's words might have a grain of ridiculous truth to them.

 

The plumbing totally forgotten, the two were oblivious to the leaking water's increasing pressure.

 

"You're not the only single guy around here anymore! You're scoping me out!" Carl poked a finger into Daryl's face.

 

The man smacked the hand out of his space before growling, "I'm not scoping out a ten year old."

 

"I'm fourteen, Grandpa!"

 

"Well you're creeping her out! This is a reverse Chris Hansen intervention!"

 

"I have no idea what you're talking about!" Carl annunciated.

 

"You know what? Fuck it! Talk to her, ask her out, I don't care." Daryl punctuated with a flick of his wrist.

 

The escalating yells finally silenced after Daryl's last words. He shifted on his feet as rising awkwardness filled the emptiness left by the deflating tension.

 

Carl sighed. He ruffled a hand through his unkempt hair before sitting on top of the large toolbox.

 

"I creep her out?" He asked in a small voice.

 

"Nah, you don't. Make her uncomfortable is all. She's just worried that maybe you think you two could actually happen." Muttered Daryl. He rubbed the back of his neck, scratched his arm, and bit his nail before settling with crossed arms. He could only let his eyes rest on Carl's twice until choosing the safe direction that was the kid's costume sandals.

 

"Of course I don't. I don't even have my license yet! She's just so nice you know? And pretty."

 

Daryl could only nod. This horrible intervention had wrangled all the words possible out of him.

 

"I guess I've been making a dick of myself though, huh? I'll reign back. And as hard as it is to believe right now, I think it's better I heard it from you than Beth. _That_ would have been embarrassing." Carl let out a weak laugh. A beat passed and his downtrodden expression brightened into an amused smirk, "I guess this means there's no more competition. She's free for any guy to come in and sweep her off her feet." One of his eyebrows jumped.

 

Daryl chanced a glance at Carl's wicked grin. He cursed the kid's recovery time as he mulled over Carl's insinuation. He wanted to throw it back into the boy's face. Tell him that he's the only one mooning over her. That he and Beth were friends and that's that. But he couldn't.

 

Like Carl said, Beth was the nicest person he knew and was his closest friend because of it. If she hadn't first reached out to him, he probably never would have befriended the rest of his coworkers. In fact, he probably would have moved on to the next odd job by now as per his nomadic tendencies. It dawned on him that the thought of leaving hadn't even crossed his mind since joining the store. Butchering at the G&G, handling bloody meat aside, was the nicest gig he's ever had. He didn't miss doing hard labor outdoors, but he liked his freedom. But it occurred to Daryl that maybe he favored the chance to be around the beautiful, sweet, young woman everyday than living a life of flexibility.

 

Daryl's stomach dropped.

 

And the cracked water pipe burst.

 

Daryl and Carl dropped to ground at the sound of the explosion. The fresh hole from the geyser allowed the shrieks of drenched customers, worshipers, and the news team to pierce the stockroom.

 

Amidst the yelling and bustle of people, the two could hear the topic of their discussion yell, "See what you did Rick? You made Him angry, and He struck you down!"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Wow, it's been a while hasn't it? With the amazing new season came the kick in the pants to work on this again! (And why this chapter is extra long) Hopefully the motivation will keep up.
> 
> Feedback certainly pushes me to write more ;)
> 
> This chapter is dedicated to each and every one of you who have left me such kind reviews. (Especially to the guest who once upon a time said that they checked everyday for an update. That made me smile all day.

**Author's Note:**

> AN: I know. A 10 Items or Less / TWD AU is absolutely the crackiest AU to ever have been created, but the connections between these polar opposite shows were too numerous and hilarious for me to not do anything with. And if you're a comedy geek, I definitely recommend 10 Items. If only to listen to someone else yell "Carl!" in anguish. 
> 
> Updates will not be frequent (if ever). Unless y'all are inexplicably interested in more. This was just something I needed to get out of my system.
> 
> If I do continue, there will definitely be more Bethyl. They've been my most recent obsession.


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